With you I only need one muse. That’s good enough and plenty. Like a gardener you help me grow, then watch me evolve through the seasons. Don’t you love to taste my fruit and explore loves forbidden truths…
You can hardly watch me blossom. The amazement in your eyes creates fluorescent volumes. So colorful and lovely to fathom. No soul would dare make tread on your grass, for it would surely be a lost soul after that.
Even after Jack and Mary, my Ivy vines never seize to entice you. That’s how real perennials do; have you constantly pursuing the strength of their roots.
Sweet grapes, and Granny Smith Apples. Those remind you of me. I love you all the way to where the ocean and sky meet, like I love a single red rose, or a dozen marigolds. I’m your hanging Petunia. Your love seed. Your juicy fruit. Forever and always in season for you.
We don’t wanna be saved, our kind.
We wanna be wined, dined, tricked and told lies,
Because that’s the feeling off which we thrive.
This ain’t poetry.
These just some drug rhymes,
or wake up calls like dope lines.
This ain’t love.
"take me, tease me, beg me, please me
need me, need me, please don’t leave me”
side effects we got from spending time.
This ain’t my world
But I live in the sky with the stars
And the moon. Wearing shades of blue.
This ain’t the point
It’s about the birds and the bees and the
girls on they knees and the keys and the trees.
This ain’t poetry
These just some drug rhymes.